


Wicked Games

by Onyx_Rissen (orphan_account)



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-24 17:21:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21341893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Onyx_Rissen
Summary: The team heads to Kentucky to catch an unsub that is killing for sport and dumping bodies in the forest. When Spencer Reid and Aaron Hotchner are intentionally separated from the group, they realize that they are the new target. Stranded in the Appalachian mountains alone, they must work together to survive the unsub's wicked game. Maybe they will come to realize how much they care for one another along the way.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid
Comments: 5
Kudos: 47





	1. Day Four

**Author's Note:**

> Gideon is still apart of the BAU, with Rossi.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hotch's POV

Hotch adjusts the weight of the younger man on his back as he begins to ascend the cliffside. The forest is silent except for the crunch of leaves and fallen snow under his boots. The chill in the air is numbing his fingers, turning each digit bright red as the onset of frostbite settles in his tissues. The faint intermittent breath against his neck keeps him focused. He struggles to find his footing and a bead of hot sweat trickles down his brow. At last, he reaches the top. It’s a flat clearing that overlooks the edge of the mountain. When Hotch peaks over it, his heart drops. 

There are rolling hills as far as the eye can see. The evening sunlight is breaking through the gathering clouds, highlighting the thousands of trees spread out before them. 

Hotch crumples to his knees in utter despair. 

“What do we do now, Aaron?” Spencer’s voice is small and quiet. He releases Hotch’s neck and eases himself onto the ground. Hotch slumps down beside him to take in the view. It’s difficult to shake the feeling of sheer hopelessness that’s trying to drag him under. 

He gazes at the setting sun. The temperature will nosedive soon, until it’s nearly freezing. They need to find shelter before they’re stranded out in the cold and dark. He turns to Spencer, and his mind begins to mentally catalogue every injury that the young genius has sustained. His left leg is stretched out in front of them. Hotch inspects the makeshift cast around Spencer's ankle with disdain. He had constructed it from sticks and twigs in a desperate attempt to stabilize the broken bones. Spencer's inability to walk on his own has ultimately slowed them down. Hotch is sure that his own wounds are infected. The open cuts on his skin are inflamed and oozing with purulent discharge. If they fail to find help before his fever sets in, they are both surely dead. From a survivalist standpoint, their odds are turning grimmer hour-by-hour.

Hotch exhales – his voice is shaky when he finally responds, “I’m not sure.” he admits.

“Aaron-.” Spencer starts to speak, but Hotch quickly cuts him off. 

“No,” he’s stern now, his resolve unwavering. They look into each other’s eyes for seconds; it feels like a lifetime. Spencer’s hazel irises reflect his exhaustion and pain. He reaches out and takes Spencer’s hand. “I’m not leaving you behind.”

It is not the first time that Spencer has suggested to do so. Hotch has already vowed not to abandon him – ever - but Spencer seems more than willing to be a martyr if there is small chance that his partner will get to safety. Little does he know that he’s the only reason Hotch is continuing to push onward.

If there is anyone in the world that he could have chosen to be stranded in the woods with, it was with Spencer Reid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did Aaron and Spencer get themselves into this mess? Find out next chapter to see what happens, starting at the very beginning!


	2. Briefing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer's POV

It all begins with a briefing on the jet. They’re in the air when JJ finally sits down with the others to distribute each file among them. Spencer is immediately enamored with the case. There are dozens of photographs of corpses in various states of decomposition. He tilts the pictures into the light, studying the array of wounds marking the bodies. 

“Belfry, Kentucky – a small town with a population of less than four-thousand residents. The local police assumed that hunters were wandering too far into the Appalachian Mountains and getting lost, but when the bodies kept piling up, they decided to call us.” JJ finishes. She opens her own file to examine the photos, although Spencer is sure that she has likely read through its content’s multiple times in her office. 

Morgan’s lips are in a thin line, and his brows are bunched together in concentration, “Right off the bat, the victimology looks inconsistent – men, women; all of varying ages and races. Doesn’t seem like our unsub has a particular type.” 

“And the bodies were all dumped in the woods within miles of each other.” Emily adds. 

Hotch leans forward, his eyes unmoving as he stares at the morbid pictures, “The coroner reported that the victims were covered in scratches, bug bites, and ticks - like they had been out in the wilderness for an extended period of time before their deaths.” 

Gideon is quiet, his face grim until he closes the file, sits back, and sighs. “This is exactly like the case we encountered back in Idaho.” 

Rossi looks incredulous, “A copycat?” 

“Maybe, but let’s not assume anything until we’re able to examine the crime scenes and interview the local police.” Hotch reasons.

Jennifer rubs her forehead in exasperation, “It’s exactly the same.”

Spencer interjects, “Not exactly, the victims in Idaho were killed with hunting arrows,” he holds up a photograph for the rest of the team to see, his finger pointing to a dead woman’s abdomen, “These are bullet wounds.” 

Everyone is quiet. Their minds are already trying to piece together the type of murderer who would so easily disregard the value of a human life. 

“I want everyone in teams of two. No one should investigate any area alone.” Hotch gazes at each of them, his eyes lingering on Spencer. 

“Let’s play this as cautiously as we can.” Rossi says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short! I like writing in spurts during the day. It gives me time to plot out the next chapter.


	3. Buildup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer's POV

Hotch insists on partnering with Spencer, and no one bats an eye at the decision. Morgan goes with Emily and JJ stays with Rossi. They split into three teams to divide the work evenly among themselves. 

Spencer is quiet on the way to the crime scene. He’s gazing through the passenger window, lost in his thoughts until he feels Hotch’s hand encasing his own and entwining their fingers together. He glances over at the older man, but he’s focused on navigating the trail that winds along the mountain. The Humvee rocks back-and-forth as they slowly make their way over the uneven terrain. The sun is obscured by gathering rain clouds. 

Finally, Spencer says, “They know.” 

Hotch is silent. Spencer expected as much. 

Their relationship has never been easy. From the very beginning, Hotch had insisted on keeping it a secret. Of course, back then Spencer had been more than willing to give him time to adjust. He still daydreams about that night, eight months ago. When their lips first met in the darkness – their tender kisses turning more passionate and needful as the seconds ticked by. It was blissful - it changed their lives. 

But Hotch is still hesitant about coming out, so they’re forced to hide their affection for each other until they’re alone. Spencer loathes it; he feels like a prisoner in his own mind. However, he worries that Hotch is ashamed or embarrassed.

“If my superiors find out, they will remove you from the unit, Spencer.” Hotch spares him a brief look, his brows furrowed in worry. Spencer resists scoffing at the obvious excuse. 

“The team will never tell them,” Spencer pushes, “I’m sure that everything would be okay.” 

“No.” Hotch’s grip is tightening on the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white. He removes his hand from Spencer’s. The tender moment is over; Hotch’s defensive shield is building back up.

“I’m tired of hiding this.” Spencer gestures between them with his hands, as if their relationship is a simple, tangible force connecting them. 

Hotch’s voice is stern when he replies, “It’s too dangerous.” 

Anger boils in his stomach before Spencer can bite his tongue, “You’re scared of how people will perceive you.” he spits out the words like they’re acid. His chest aches with guilt as soon as he says it, but Hotch is already burned by the intensity of what he is implicating. 

“Spencer, focus on the case. We can talk about this later.” 

Spencer slumps back into the seat, his eyes trained back on the passing scenery outside. The following silence is tense. He feels frustrated and remorseful all at once. The emotions are bubbling inside of him, threatening to boil over. He fights the abrupt urge to leave the car and abandon the situation. He wishes he could be anywhere else. 

A ranger’s vehicle appears over the ridge. It appears parked in place, with the driver’s door wide open. Hotch pulls behind it and cuts the ignition. Spencer climbs out of the car and approaches the vehicle with Hotch. Its driver is nowhere in sight. 

“This is where Ms. Bright said that she would meet us.” Hotch scans the tree line in the distance, searching for any sign of the young lady that had welcomed them at the station.

Spencer jiggles the passenger side door, momentarily shocked to find it unlocked, and peeks inside at the interior. His heart sinks when he spots an identification tag dangling on the rearview mirror. “Aaron,” he removes the lanyard and holds it up, “This is her vehicle.” 

And just like that, the air turns palpable with their combined fear. They begin calling her name. Their voices echo across the clearing, but Ms. Bright never emerges from the underbrush. Hotch takes out his cellphone and curses, “No signal.” 

“Should we start looking for her?” Spencer asks. 

Hotch is momentarily at a loss for words. He’s turning in place, desperately searching for the girl, hoping that it’s all a ruse. 

“Either our guide has temporarily abandoned her post,” his eyes lock with Spencer’s, “Or the unsub is one step ahead of us.” 

Spencer shakes his head in dismay, “We can’t leave,” he whispers, “If she’s here, injured, we need to look for her.” 

Hotch nods, although his face is grim, “Keep your gun out.” 

Together, they descend into the woods. Spencer mentally begins to map out the direction they are traveling. If they need a quick escape, Hotch will be relying on him to remember the layout of the land. Dried leaves and twigs crunch under their feet with every step. The hair on the back of his neck is taut. Something does not feel right. 

Then, all hell breaks loose. 

A burst of gunfire; a single bullet obliterates the bark on a spruce tree right next to Spencer’s shoulder. 

“Take cover!” Hotch screams. 

Spencer ducks behind the nearest trunk, but it’s far too open to attacks for his liking. He hears Hotch sprinting further to the left. When he tries to follow, another gunshot rings out, burrowing into the soil next to him. Spencer freezes, his head darting around anxiously. He focuses on breathing to steady his trembling fingers. The revolver is ice cold in his grip. 

A flock of crows take flight from a nearby willow. There’s movement ahead of him. Spencer’s heart beats against his ribcage, his eyes wide with terror. 

“A-Aaron?” he calls, his voice almost pleading. 

Something incredibly hard collides with the side of his head. He’s unconscious before he even hits the forest floor.


	4. One Shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hotch's POV

Hotch’s hands are steady as he trains his weapon around the tree. There’s no sign of anyone in the distance. The gunfire has ceased. 

A single, urgent thought is running through his head: he has to find Spencer.

He begins moving forward, back from whence he came. He takes care to stay behind cover, although he’s more than likely entirely vulnerable in such an open area. His mind is processing the severity of their situation. They’re being ambushed by an unseen gunman. It’s nearly impossible to discern which direction the gunfire is originating from. Their guide is missing in action and possibly dead. Their phones have no signal, meaning that there is absolutely no feasible way to call for assistance. They’re stranded with a killer. Their only chance to leave is the car that they left on the road. 

Hotch slows down when he hears voices.

“I got one!” a man with a thick country accent exclaims. There’s silence, but Hotch’s stomach is sinking. Is there more than one unsub? He crouches lower to the ground and puts his back against a half-buried boulder in order to get a closer look. 

The man is brandishing his hunting rifle, with the barrel pointed right at Spencer. Hotch sucks in his breath. Spencer is lying on the floor, unmoving. The unsub is prodding him with his foot and mumbling to himself. White hot rage courses through Hotch’s veins. Although he wants nothing more than to put a bullet through the man’s braindead skull, he hesitates. If he doesn’t land a perfect shot, the man may threaten to kill Spencer. He will have to incapacitate the man in order to escape with his agent intact. 

Hotch judges the distance between himself and his intended target. It’s a long shot, but not impossible. The wind will curve the bullet, so he’ll have to aim higher and farther to the right. If he doesn’t get the trajectory correct, then Spencer may be hit instead. If he fails to take down the man in a single shot, Spencer will die from the unsub’s itchy trigger finger. 

It will have to be precise. 

He aims his pistol, completely calm. The man is oblivious when he takes the shot. In an instant, he’s down and clutching his abdomen. Hotch sprints forward to kick the rifle away from his reach, ignoring his curses and agonizing screams. He kneels next to Spencer and scoops him into his arms. 

“They’re over here!” the man screeches, writhing on the ground in pain. 

Hotch is already running back up the slope. The air burns his lungs as he gasps for breath. Spencer is groaning from the harsh movements. Hotch shushes him, stopping in his tracks. He can see both vehicles from his viewpoint, but their probability of escaping has plummeted. There are several others with rifles seemingly guarding the road. Most of them are men dressed in camouflage and heavy coats to brace the weather. A woman is among their group, appearing just as menacing as the others. All of them are alert, waiting for their victims to stumble up the slope. 

Hotch spins around and starts running.


End file.
